


And There is a Question

by AdrianaintheSnow



Series: Is There Anything Left of Patton? [7]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Guns, M/M, Patton is a zombie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:21:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23788492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdrianaintheSnow/pseuds/AdrianaintheSnow
Summary: Would you like to know the answer?
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Logic | Logan Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Morality | Patton Sanders, Logic | Logan Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders
Series: Is There Anything Left of Patton? [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1639429
Comments: 92
Kudos: 217





	And There is a Question

**Author's Note:**

> I’m back with this one. The next two parts are written too and will be releasing in the next couple of weeks. 
> 
> Thanks to @kieraelieson for betaing

Logan opened the refrigerator and immediately felt the overwhelming urge to bash his head against it. “Virgil!” he called. “Would you just _eat_ the macaroni!”

“I told you! It’s not any good after it’s been in the fridge!” he called back.

“Then why do you keep making it?” Logan practically sobbed to himself with his head against the refrigerator door; there were three Tupperware containers full of macaroni and cheese despite the fact that Logan had thrown out one yesterday and eaten another. “Dammit,” he whispered and grabbed one of the older containers out. He was going to have to hide the rest of the boxes of macaroni and cheese, wasn’t he? They’d found them on a recent scavenging trip. Virgil had been overjoyed that they’d been only about a year expired and Logan had been happy to have an easy source of dinner, but Virgil apparently had no self-control in this. Logan couldn’t keep living like this. At this point, he would be elated to never see the Kraft logo ever again.

Patton, having heard him shouting and being drawn to the sound, shuffled into the room. Logan still felt a twinge in his chest every time he walked through that doorway. Patton used to love this kitchen, and he’d been very good at using it. Perhaps if he were the one cooking, Logan wouldn’t have eaten only macaroni for every goddamned meal this week.

He placed said bowl of macaroni in the microwave before turning to the other man. “Hello dear,” Logan said softly, moving over to him. He carefully prodded at him until he stumbled over to one of the chairs and then pushed his shoulders down until he sat. “Would you like something to eat too?”

There was no response from Patton but to reach up and pat at Logan’s jaw briefly. Logan caught his hand with gentle fingers and pressed a soft kiss against his wrist. When he released the hand, it fell limply into Patton’s lap. Logan turned to the refrigerator and selected one of the pre-prepared sealed containers of raw meat. He took his own breakfast out of the microwave and set both containers on the table before getting two glasses of water from the reservoir.

Patton looked at the water with a certain level of interest. Though he did need water, he didn’t take to it with nearly as much gusto as he did food. Logan watched him lean forward to grab at it with both hands and pull it to himself. He stared at it for a long moment before tilting forward to poke his tongue into the cup briefly. Then, he sat back up and elected to ignore the drink.

“Not thirsty this morning?” Logan asked. “Or did you find and consume Virgil’s coffee once again?”

He titled his head at the sound of Logan’s voice, but didn’t quite look at him.

“Here,” Logan said. “Have some breakfast.” He reached over and quickly took off the lid of the meat container before sitting back. That got Patton’s attention. He zeroed in on the food immediately, grabbing for it and shoving it into his mouth as quickly as he could with a wet squelching sound. Virgil still complained about how ‘gross’ it was watching Patton eat, but Logan had grown numb to it over the past going on two years. Logan wasn’t sure why Virgil had trouble getting over it, but imagined it had something to do with the fact that Logan had watched fewer people being eaten alive by less tame zombies.

Logan twitched. ‘Tamed’ was not a word he was comfortable using for Patton he decided, an obstruction in his throat. Not an animal. Not a pet. Can’t.

He shoved a forkful of macaroni and cheese down his throat to distract himself. It somehow managed to be both dry and slimy at the same time. Why did Virgil do these things?

Logan looked up at Patton. “Honestly, yours looks more appetizing than mine this morning, dear.” Patton was finishing off his food. “I imagine I cannot negotiate a trade?” Patton started licking the blood off his fingers. “Fair enough.”

Logan continued to force more of his meal down as Patton grew more and more interested in his water cup, though he did not reach for it.

That interest was suddenly drawn away when Virgil came jogging into the room, hoodie in place despite the fact that it was in the upper 60s. He glanced into the refrigerator and hummed before grabbing out the container of orange juice they’d thawed for this week. “Nuh uh, Patton. This is my orange juice,” he said pushing the man who had gotten to his feet to follow him gently away before pouring himself a glass of juice.

“You’re energetic today,” Logan noted.

“I’ve got plans today. The first batch of lettuce should be grown enough to have fresh salads tonight, and I’m going to be planting the carrots. We’re finally going to have real food again soon!”

“Speaking of real food,” Logan said. “Is that all you’re going to have for breakfast?”

“If my only other choice is refrigerated mac and cheese then, yeah, absolutely.”

Logan ground his teeth in agitation, but decided a fight about it wasn’t worth it today.

“Fine, fine, Patton,” Virgil gave in as the man reached past the arm Virgil was using to block him. “You can have the rest.” He offered the cup with about an inch of orange juice still at the bottom and Patton snatched it away, tilting the cup up to drink the rest of it. Virgil turned to Logan while he did. “The corner’s wet again.”

“What?!” Patton jerked his head up at Logan’s voice, and Virgil had to snatch the glass away from him to keep it from shattering on the ground. Patton had lunged to jump on top of Logan; Logan’s chair almost toppled over backwards from the force. “Yes, hello Patton,” he said, unconcerned, pushing the fingers away from his mouth to speak. “How is there still a leak? I’ve fixed every shingle above it and replaced part of the wall.”

“Don’t ask me Lo. I’m not a carpenter. All I know is the carpet is soaked again.”

Logan pushed Patton’s hair out of his own face. “Mother fuck.”

Virgil nodded sagely. “I couldn’t have put it better myself.” He placed his orange juice cup in the dirty dish tub. “I can try to help you with it after lunch.”

“Sure,” Logan agreed with a groan. He got a palm pressed to his mouth for the sound.

“Welp, I’m going to the garden now. Stay still Lo,” Virgil requested. He walked to the kitchen doorway and gave a sharp, high-pitched whistle. “Come on, Pat!” Patton seemed conflicted for a moment before Virgil whistled again. Then, he lumbered clumsily off Logan to follow after Virgil.

Logan finished his breakfast alone and then went to the living room. Patton had apparently decided to go upstairs after Virgil escaped to the garden because he was nowhere in sight. Logan gave the corner of the living room by the rocking chair a glare. He should try to figure out where the leak was coming from again, but he didn’t have the patience at the moment, and Virgil had said he’d help after lunch anyway. So, instead he decided to grab one of his books and sat in the rocking chair. He had to admit the damned thing was comfy despite its hideous aesthetic. Logan might as well accept it. He knew he’d never be able to get rid of the thing for as long as he lived.

Logan read for a few hours before he decided it was time to make lunch. He decided to be nice and not force Virgil to only eat his sins for the meal. Instead, he closed the kitchen door and cooked some of the deer meat from his first hunt of the season a few days ago. He also opened a can of beets and a can of peaches. He did dish out a side of macaroni and cheese for the both of them. He doubted either of them would actually eat it, but it would be an excuse to throw it away.

Virgil came in with a small bowl full of lettuce from the garden and was careful to close the door behind him when he noticed Logan was finishing up cooking meat. He set the bowl on the counter to wash later and helped Logan finish prepping lunch. The two of them ate the meat and the beets at the kitchen table (as both were foods Patton would be inclined to eat if he caught sight of them) and then took the peaches into the living room to eat for dessert (leaving the macaroni to rot on the kitchen table).

“How’s the garden?” Logan asked.

“A lot better without you touching it,” Virgil answered, which was fair. “I put out the carrot-ay sign with the black belt carrot drawn on it.”

The comment sent something twisting in Logan’s gut, but he still let out a fond chuckle both for the man who had made the sign and the one who was still using it. “I’ll have to come see it.”

“Just no touching.”

Logan was letting out a soft laugh when there was a loud bang and the front door sprang open.

Both Logan and Virgil shot to their feet as a shotgun was pointing at them.

There was a moment’s pause. “Can I help you?” asked Logan.

“Oh shit,” the man said eloquently, “You’re alive?”

“Yes,” Logan said, “and you just kicked in the door to my house.”

“…Sorry babe,” the man said as he lowered the gun so it was pointed at the floor. Logan bristled a bit at the nickname. “Hey, Ro, we’ve got live ones,” he called back out of the door. Virgil was strung tight at Logan’s side, saying nothing and curling into his hoodie. Logan nudged him slightly with his elbow as he took a sharp breath.

“Oh, really?” a voice asked. He poked his head inside. Logan and he blinked at each other for a few moments. “Hey! I know you!” he said excitedly.

And so he did. They were never the best of friends and the most they’d ever interacted was when they worked together on a group project for a gen ed college course, but that didn’t seem to stop Roman from getting excited and practically throwing himself at Logan to pull him into an embrace even as one hand still held a rifle.

“Yes, hello, Roman,” Logan said. He felt pleased for just a moment to see someone he had known before the world ended, but then, of course, a sound from the top of the stairs reminded him why this was not at all a good thing.

“Shit,” Virgil broke his silence to hiss.

Roman jumped away on high alert in the same moment Logan moved to stand in front of the staircase Patton was coming down.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” Roman barked. “That’s a zombie.”

“No, it isn’t,” Logan lied, his voice somehow steady even as Patton collided with his back.

“Um, bitch, yes it is!” Roman said.

“Honestly, if he were a zombie, I would have been bitten already.”

“Oh, please Logan,” Roman said, his countenance startlingly different from the openly joyful one it had been only seconds before. “I thought you were the smart guy. I’ve been around the block. I started in fucking New York City and while most zombies will attack the second they see you, some don’t. Some of them are ambush predators that wait until you’re vulnerable, weak, or sleeping, but they’re still going to bite you eventually. I’ve seen a lot of fucking zombies. I know one when I see it, and that,” he pointed at Patton accusingly, “is a fucking zombie.”

“He is not,” Logan insisted. “Patton was not bitten. He just faced a traumatic event and had a psychotic break making him act erratic and confused. He is not dead.”

“Oh, is that so?” Roman scoffed. He whistled once, sharp and high pitched, and Patton predictably shoved past Logan and stumbled straight at him. Roman put up his rifle to nudge him into stopping. “See, I don’t exactly believe you,” Roman said. “So why don’t we hear it from Patton?”

“This is unnecessary,” Logan said, his voice cracking at the sight of Patton with the barrel of a gun pointed straight at his chest.

“Tell me, Patton,” Roman continued, a sneer on his face. “Is there anyone alive in there?” There was quiet for a moment and then, to Logan’s surprise Patton’s mouth twitched just barely. He blinked and suddenly there was something there that hadn’t been for almost two years.

“Yes.”


End file.
